The Last Supper
by Armelle-Madeline
Summary: Wartime fic. Harry has been captured. Draco Malfoy visits him in his cell the night every hour before he is executed, to gloat, and discuss the War. References to a previous relationship


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the subsequent characters. He and all the settings of Hogwarts are the creation of J.K Rowling.

A/N: Yes, this is very much based on Maya's fantastic 'Dark Side of the Light'. It's purely dialogue, it is conversation either side of a jail cell, but it's… different. Hopefully you'll stick through it long enough to see that. If not, I wrote this for myself, for a challenge and for a muse. And no, it's not beta-ed.

Feedback is appreciated.

The sound of footsteps, then murmur of voices. There is a soft chink of metal keys passed from hand to hand. One set of footsteps moves away. There is a pause 

"What do you want?" Bitter. Accusing.

"We never got round to chains, did we?"

"Shut up, Malfoy."

_pause_

"Temper, temper. It didn't have to be like this, you know. Oh wait. It did."

_silence_

"Why are you here?"

_pause_

"To gloat to my little black heart's content. It's not often I get to see my fantasies played out. And then there's the dull business of checking on our most valuable prisoner."

"You always were a bastard, Malfoy."

"Love you too, Harry." Sarcastic, amused

_pause_

"Don't call me that." Quiet, steady.

_pause_

Slow, calculated. "You didn't seem to mind _before_."

"That's before I knew you were a carbon copy of your father." Evenly.

Amused. "Touché, Potter."

_pause_

"It's not a fencing match, Malfoy."

"No, that would require some measure of verbose skill on your part. And you've always let emotion blind you to reality. After all, those chains on your wrists came from somewhere, didn't they?"

_silence_

"Sulking?"

_pause_

"Why did you do it?"

Surprised. "Why wouldn't I?"

_pause_

Quiet. "Didn't think you were like that."

Condescending. "You always were a poor judge of character."

"Well, when an emotionless bastard sets out to manipulate me thoroughly when I'm _slightly_ distracted by Voldemort killing my friends, then my insight becomes poor, I'll admit." Sarcastic.

_pause_

"I'm surprised how easy it was, actually."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

A laugh.

_pause_

"Comfortable here, are you?"

"Oh yes, the guards are fawning over me. The food's wonderful, satin sheets, a girl in my bed every night, wouldn't know any different from my previous existence really." beat "The chains aren't necessary."

"You'd throttle me if you weren't chained." Matter-of-fact.

A laugh.

"Probably would."

"Much as idle chit-chat is entertaining beyond _belief_, despite popular opinion I'm not wasting my time down here for the pleasure of your company."

_beat_

Disinterestedly. "What do you want, then?"

_beat_

"You aren't serious."

A laugh.

"What a dirty little mind you have, Potter. Believe me, fucking you was as bland and banal an exercise as ever existed. I used to do my Arithmancy homework in my head, you know."

"Fuck off, Malfoy."

_pause_

Silkily. "Got to you, did that?"

_silence_

dripping of a tap. It is so quiet each individual water droplet can be heard ringing against the metal of the bucket

"It's cold down here." Interestedly.

"If you want to give me another blanket, I won't tell the guard." Cynical.

_pause_

Businesslike. "I expect you're dying to hear the news. You've been down here a while, haven't you?"

_pause_

"A while."

"So you don't know the news." Teasing, enticing.

_silence_

Wryly. "I'm sure you're going to tell me."

_pause_

"She was pretty, you know."

_pause_

"Who?"

_pause_ As if waiting for him to beg.

"_Who_, Malfoy?"

_beat_

Mockingly. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

_pause_

"She screamed. I suppose seeing them die would do that." Thoughtful.

_beat_

"Who are you talking about, Malfoy?" Hollow.

"They'd given up on you, you know. Even Dumbledore. The old fool was past it anyway."

"Malfoy, who is it?"

_beat_

"It's not just her." Softly.

_pause_

"Do you like being like this? Killing people? You used to care about them."

_beat_

"You're wrong, Potter. I never cared. You did. You cared _desperately_. You cared for the Mudblood, and the blood traitors. You wanted to save the world. And where are you now? Chained in a dungeon. Awaiting death."

_pause_

"They're going to kill you tomorrow."

_pause_

Barely audibly. "I know."

Conversationally. "It's a big celebration, you know. After all, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Saviour, the one who was going to free the world from _evil_ Lord Voldemort… Given the Dementor's Kiss in the Ministry of Magic. Symbolic. I don't tend to go in for symbolism much, it all seems a bit razzle-dazzle, show business to me, but give the public what they want…"

_pause_

"Go away Malfoy." Tiredly.

"She was _dreadfully_ upset at the thought of it, you know. She was pretty in an odd way. Her brothers weren't. I've never understood the appeal of red hair and freckles. You might have been dull as ditchwater in bed, but at least you weren't ugly. Pompous expression as if you were always to save the world."

_beat_

"You don't have it now."

_pause_

"And she saw them die. We saved her 'til last; Crabbe generally has better taste but she was rather insulting in sixth year when he asked her out. Well, what was he to do? She had slept with _Corner_, she'd do _anyone._"

_pause_

"So she screamed, and kicked and tried to escape. It was rather fun, actually. Nothing like the bleak shock when they lost their foolish, senile leader. In front of all those students. A nice touch. Pansy always did have a flair." Admiring.

_pause_

Quietly. "And where is she now, Malfoy?"

_beat_

Musing. "And a palpable hit. Your second, Potter. But I haven't been counting mine."

A laugh, bitter, tired and wrenched out.

The clank of metal rasping against metal.

"Easy. I don't want you any closer to me than needs be."

"You're in my cell, Malfoy."

_pause_

"You seemed to like it, you know."

_beat_

"I'm an accomplished actor, Potter. And you were _desperate._"

_beat_

Softly. "You loved me."

_beat_

"Cling to that if you wish, Potter. Perhaps it will keep the Dementor at bay until he is close enough to exchange intimacies. That way it'll be more of a shock. You always did like kissing."

_beat_

"It's called 'foreplay', Malfoy."

"I was your first."

_pause_

"So was I."

_pause_

"I can assure you Potter, I'd slept with my fair share of men before you. More than my fair share actually. Blaise Zabini has the most delectable bottom."

_pause_

Softly. "I wasn't talking about that."

_pause_

The heavy tread of boots on stone, the splash as they step through a puddle of coagulated damp. The slow rasping traverse of the bolt in the lock. A grunt as it is slammed across.

Idly. "Well, my escort is here. Big. Burly. Masculine. Unfortunately, he's dreadfully ugly as well, but we can't have everything. I'll see you later."

_pause_

"Later?"

_beat_

"Oh yes, didn't you know? This is all part of the service." Sweetly. "Making your last night on earth as impressionable as possible. Sleep well, Potter. I'll be back in an hour."

_silence_


End file.
